This is a sequel to my previous story, "Arty and Steph." Please read that before continuing.
All characters in this story are aged 18 or older.
This story is the intellectual property of its writer to the exclusion of all others. This story is a work of fiction and any similarities between real persons or events is merely coincidental.
Arty had finally gotten to the weekend, despite the powerful kick Steph had delivered to him earlier he had not stopped masturbating and his sperm count didn't seem to have diminished at all. However, all his fantasies now centered around Steph.
It was not unusual for him to fantasize about Steph in general, she was one of the hottest girls in his school, but ever since she had kicked him in the balls it had given rise to a new sort of sexual interest. He loved her for this. He knew he shouldn't. He knew she showed an indifference to his well-being and saw him as a plaything for her amusement. It didn't matter.
That Friday he knew the cheerleaders would be comparing their scores, how many different guys they had kicked in the balls. He was hoping they'd begin the bets all over again. He wished he could watch that party, hearing the sexiest girls talk about all the guys they busted, he was hoping Steph had won and that meant her kicking him meant something. He probably wouldn't know.
He instead kept himself busy with homework, video games, and masturbating to pictures of Steph, especially ones where her feminine and toned legs were on full display. He would whisper, "kick me again, Steph," while looking at them on social media.